


A Scientist Walks into a Bar... Er... Coffee Shop

by ORainStorms



Category: Knitting in the City Series - Penny Reid
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORainStorms/pseuds/ORainStorms
Summary: This scene is set at the very beginning of Dating-ish and retells Matt and Marie’s fateful first encounter from his perspective.
Relationships: Marie/Matt
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Scientist Walks into a Bar... Er... Coffee Shop

Sighing in frustration, Matt pushed away from his computer and glared at yellow duck perched near his mouse pad. Grumbling to himself about taunting eyes, he reached out and turned the bird around so it faced the wall. Scrubbing his hands over his face, Matt decided a break was in order. He would come back and try to sort these numbers later, with a fresh brain, hopefully. 

Just then, his pants began to buzz— _ good, I need the distraction _ .

“This is Matt.”

“Okay, now listen. I need you to do something for me. I know, I know, you’re not going to want to, but I’m going to need you to do it anyway. It’s for the project.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Matt closed his eyes.  _ Dr. Merek _ . A headache built behind his eyelids. 

“Now, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s going to be fine. It’s not a big deal. There’s this subject interview scheduled for this afternoon. Look, I twisted my ankle just now and need to ice it. I can’t make it. You’re going to have to do it. I know, I know. I  _ know _ you don’t want to, okay. But, you know we need more data points. This one perfectly represents her demographic from what I can tell.”

Drawing in a steadying breath, Matt ran his fingers through his hair. “Fine.”

“It won’t be that bad. Just smile and make lots of eye contact. Let her do the talking. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah, yeah. When and where?”

Jotting down the information on a post-it, Matt fumed, “That is less than 20 minutes. How do you expect me to make it all the way over there in time?”

“Sure, sure,” Matt could hear Dr. Merek saying to someone else. Then louder, to Matt, “Thanks again,” before abruptly hanging up. Matt cursed silently at the black screen of his phone.

_God, I hate these things._ _Maybe it won’t be_ ** _that_** _bad… I mean… it can’t go worse than last time, right?_

Squaring his shoulders, he mapped the location on his phone and jogged out of the building to hail a cab.

—

Exiting the taxi, Matt took a deep breath.  _ Look, it will be one-hour max. You’ve never managed to keep an interviewee past that. And then it’s done. That’s all you have to do. You can make it.  _ Completing his pep talk, he mentally reviewed the file he’d read on the way over. 

As he swung open the door, Matt’s eyes surveyed the shop. With a forced smile, he eyed the patrons. He located the blonde sitting at a central table, alone. He strode toward her and cataloged her appearance. She really did appear to be a good base model for her type: medium height, white, blonde hair, blue eyes, medium build, clothing neither costly nor shabby. His mind detoured for a moment as he took in her dress. The beige wool looked soft and warm. It tickled his memory. He was struck by a sudden impulse to feel it. 

He gave his head a small shake and tried to get back on track.  _ Okay, hair, eyes, dress, shoes, book— Book?  _ His eyes widened slightly at the title.  _ Umm… _

Choosing to ignore this variance for now, he announced, “You’re Marie.”

“Yes.” The timbre of her voice was warm and encouraged the listener to lean in.

Matt resisted. “I’m your date.”

“Oh! Hi. Hi. Please sit down.” Matt could feel her eyes taking him in, realizing that his appearance did not match that of the profile or picture— _ hopefully, she’ll chalk it up to lack of beard. Maybe I should grow one… _

__

“Derek?”

Nodding, Matt cleared his throat, “Yes. I’m Derek.”  _ Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.  _ “Derek is my name. That’s me.” He coughed.  _ Shit. That was not an improvement. Why did I say that? Grin through it!  _ He reached out his hand to shake.

Placing her hand in his, she squeezed firmly. A single finger brushed the sleeve of her dress. It was soft, but not as soft as her hand.  _ That is not a valid data point! _ A tingle ran up Matt’s arm from the contact.  _ Don’t be weird or make her uncomfortable.  _ After as quick a shake as he could politely manage, he dropped her hand. Hiding the motion under the guise of removing his coat, he flexed his own, shaking off the sensation. 

“Do you want anything?” she asked.

_ Whew, made it. Back to business.  _

__

“I grabbed a drink already,” she finished.

_ Good. _ _ That’s settled. _

__

Sitting, he looked down and watched the second hand of his watch tick down to the quarter hour. He started the timer. Taking a deep breath, he plastered on a smile and looked up. “Let’s get started.”

“S-started?”

Brown eyes met blue and he faltered, his smile freezing. The standard opening words stuck in his throat as he became lost at sea in their cerulean depths.  _ Wow.  _ His generally logical brain stuttered to a stop. He blinked.  _ Shit. I can’t remember the questionnaire.  _ The thought flitted briefly through his mind as his eyes traced the curve of her cheeks, the line of her jaw, the slight pout of her lips, and back up to those incredible eyes. He could feel his smile spreading, no longer forced. 

“Hi.” Eyes locked, he wondered if it would be truly horrible of him to drop the charade and actually talk to her, a real date.

“Hi?” she questioned, obviously confused.

_ No. We need more data. She represents a large portion of our market. Personal desire is irrelevant. It’s not like this could go anywhere anyway. Especially now that she thinks my name is Derek. _

__

Forcing his mind back on track, he conjured up the questions he was meant to be asking. His eyes caught on her fingers twined on the table. Somehow, he managed to make it through the preliminaries.  _ Thank goodness my phone is recording. I’m not sure I retained any of that. Must be nerves.  _

__

He continued down his mental list, “What are you looking for in a companion?” As soon as the words were out, his mind sat up and paid attention. 

No answer. He noted each detail of her shifting expression, from the slight frown that creased her brows to the way she withdrew her hands from the table. 

“What is your love dialect?” He tried again. Matt watched and waited. He could see her pulling back further, both mentally and physically. Her eyes stopped meeting his and began to seach, as if for an escape. 

_ Maybe if I engage her interests?  _

Struggling to keep from becoming lost in thoughts of her appearance again, he scrambled for something to say, landing on her incongruous book choice. As he asked a few questions about her odd literary tome, she tensed. 

“The 120 Days of Sodom,” he clarified in response to her frown.

“You’re completely crazy,” she exclaimed.  _ What? _

__

“You’re nuts. Don’t email me. Don’t call me. Pretend we never met,” she rushed, gathering her things.

Heat rushed up his neck.  _ How did I get off so badly? _ He made to stand. 

“Don’t. Don’t stand up. Don’t even look at me. And don’t think about following me either or I’ll call the police.” Huffing, she practically ran out of the café. 

Plopping back into his chair, Matt gave apologetic nods in response to the confused and concerned gazes around him.  _ Well _ , he thought, bowing his head,  _ at least she didn’t throw her drink at me.  _

__

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and paused the recording— _ Derek is never going to let me live this one down.  _ He stopped his watch timer— _ not even twenty minutes this time. _

__

_ Shit. She didn’t sign the release.  _ Lifting his head, Matt looked around frantically, but could no longer see her out of any of the shop windows. 

Absentmindedly, he raised a hand to rub at the slight ache beneath his breastbone. Finally noticing, he lowered his hand, but refused to acknowledge the disappointed hopes throwing a tantrum within him. 

_ Oh well. Probably for the best that I never see her again. _


End file.
